


Birds of a Feather

by Muonna



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/F, also i dont write enough gay fic, and i like cait she is under-appreciated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6936412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muonna/pseuds/Muonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cait and Natasha have been on the road for a while - Cait cleaned herself up a while ago, but Nat has been keeping a secret, one that is killing her. She needs to clean up her act, and her conscience. Cait helps her get clean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birds of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> There's no option for this in the content warnings section, so be warned that this fic contains graphic details of drug abuse/come-down- including vomiting, sickness, near death, the depression etc. Mostly because so many damn fics on here don't seem to properly understand how addiction works and as a former addict, I wanted to write something vaguely bloody realistic. And show the human effects and all that.  
> Also, I love Cait.  
> Other than that enjoy.

They were stranded somewhere east of where they should be and even further east of their destination - they were lost on top of already being lost, Cait swearing and kicking branches as she paced, and Nat trying to work out where to go through the haze of withdrawal she was beginning to feel spike. They had been traveling, taking on merc contracts, the two girls and their shotguns. But now Natasha was in no state to travel. She was trying to work out how to tell Cait as she stared down at her Pip-Boy, her vision blurring and eyes burning. 

It had been a long time coming. This morning she'd coughed for ten minutes, as she had every day for the past week, and now blood had speckled her hand in amounts she couldn't explain away as simple rad-poisoning (as simple as that could be, anyway; least it was treatable). In getting lost, she had ran out of her go-to drug, Psycho. It was getting harder to hide from Cait. She'd been spitting blood for days, coughing up into a handkerchief that she hid from her Irish gal, stuffed into the pocket of her greaser jeans where Cait couldn't see. But she could see the distrust in her eyes; she knew something was up and she needed to come clean, in both the literal and metaphorical senses. She needed to get clean, get this shit out of her system.

The Psycho had been a problem before and God help her, she'd known it was a problem when she met Cait. Soon as she'd hit the wasteland, the shock of this new world had hit her hard and the only way she had been able to steady her hand, and numb the shock of losing her son, her best friend, all in one tumultuous day was to turn to drugs and alcohol. Alcohol was actually the worse option of the two, taste-wise. At least Psycho didn't taste like vinegar swill. For a while they'd done it together, Cait had been surprised that she was willing to stoop to the same level, both of them addicts in it together. She'd helped Cait get over her own addiction, promised her girl that she would stop too and here she was, hiding her dwindling health as if Cait, ex addict that she was, wouldn't understand.

Of close, she wouldn't. Her girlfriend thought they'd quit Psycho together, didn't know about Natasha's late night drug runs to Goodneighbor, where she shot up in a back alley behind the hotel then stumbled back to camp at Hangman Alley for breakfast with a side-order of gunning down raiders. They'd supposed to have cleaned up together and here she was spitting blood. It tested bitter in her mouth, but the more bitter feeling was the guilt welling up inside her.  
She had to tell her.

Boy, she was going to be pissed.

In the soft dawn light that threw haphazard shadows across their temporary camp -nought but a tarpaulin bent over some metal poles, and a campfire, all but cinder-, Natasha bent over, head spinning, and sighed. The day was calm, the weather beautiful and it was not at all reflective of the storm churning in her gut. But, she had to tell her. Of all the things she had lost, she couldn't lose Cait too, not on top of everything. 

Pissed was an understatement. There had been a pan thrown, and a radio too. Natasha had chosen to tell Cait after the blood had started coming up in coffee grounds; her rudimentary first aid training was enough for her to know that wasn't a good sign. Cait had sworn, Cait had screamed, Cait had damn near cried but kept it together enough, eyes tearful, to intone just how she felt, and Nat felt she deserved all of it and more. She had stood there numb and taken it. She deserved ten times worse: maybe it was the comedown talking, the depression lingering just under the surface, or being ill, but she wasn't feeling top at this point in time. Part of her wanted Cait to be angry, to leave her to die in the dust. 

"Oh, you stupid cow!" Cait yelled, squaring up to Natasha with a finger pointed in her face  
"I trusted you. you did so much fer me, lorta mercy I trusted ya."  
"Have you been spitting blood?" she added, voice wavering and her hand wiping away at her eyes. Too strong to let her gal see her cry, even when she was crying angry tears, Cait stayed stoic, stayed strong, didn't let the shake in her hand betray her feelings.  
Natasha just nodded and Cait rolled her eyes , gesticulating wildly.  
"Fucking, Amazing."

Nat just nodded. It was all she could do. She felt a bit like she might throw up if she opened her mouth, out of nerves, guilt, withdrawal. She had no more back-up of Jet to tide her over, she had been cold turkey since six PM last night. 

"I didn't take none last night Caitlin" she managed to mumble, a sudden dizzy spell coming over her. She slumped to the floor, head in her hands, knees up to her chest and a sudden shiver taking over her body.  
"Aye I'd hope ye'd not have you...you... I fell in love with you. Is there anything else yer lying to me about, Nat? Is there?"  
Nat shook her head. She was too dehydrated to cry properly, but her eyes stung, rimmed red with sleep and dirt and sickness.  
"No, no. it's... it's just this. And trust me I'm just as angry at myself as you are. I'm sorry Caitlin I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please. I need help."  
Her girlfriend crossed her arms and glared down her pointed nose at the sorry sight on the floor, eyes sharp and angry, tears gone, shake too. She was frowning deeply, freckled nose wrinkled.  
"I'm angrier. If there's one thing I hate more than slavers it's liars" then, her gaze softened and she crouched to face Nat, pushing her fringe from her eyes so as to look into her eyes. Nat avoided her gaze till the girl took her chin, and forced her to look into her eyes, softening just enough to flash her a sympathetic smile.  
"Damn you Nat you got me bad girl" she said, her voice soft. "You did so much fer me, you put up with all my crap and you took me to that vault and you showed me I'm worth loving again, well, damn I can't stay angry at yeh".

Nat blinked a rush of tears from her eyes and reached out to Cait for a hug, wrapping her arms around the woman and burying her face in her neck. Cait felt warm, smelled like campfires and treated leather, skin calloused but comfortable. Nat wished she could just hug her for a few hours.  
"Shit I'm s-sorry Cait. I thought I could handle it and I can't. I can't."  
Cait just hugged her back, hand rubbing her back and, with a quick, tacky kiss to Natasha's cheek, she stood up.  
"You'll be OK. You done so much for me the least I can do is help you back and damn woman, I love you. I won't watch you die but you gotta get clean. We're gonna get ya clean, ok?"  
Nat just nodded, sniffing heavily and wiping her nose on her sleeve. Cait kissed her nose, and helped her up, supporting her with a shoulder.  
"Here, lean on me. well getcha into bed. Camp ain't too far”.  
Nat was glad for the shoulder, and leaned against her girlfriend appreciatively, resting her woozy head on the girls shoulder. Together they walked, and as they did, Cait wrapped a hand to her waist and squeezed gently. More than anything, she was disappointed.  
"Love, you better not be hiding anything else from me or soon as you get your strength back I'm going to bollock you".  
Nat laughed, though it devolved into a bitter cough very quickly. Cait picked up the pace, using the hand at her waist to pull her in and against her lean, muscular body with a sigh.  
"Damn you. You better not die on me gal. You're the best thing I got. Come on, let's get you to bed."

Where they were staying currently, an old trailer park, was a ways away from anything of importance. they'd picked the location in order to set up some defenses and ambush a local group of Rust Devils who had taken up residence in the area, which was now raider territory. Nat had gotten sick though, so as far as she could see, they were stuck here a while. Lucky for them, Cait was as resourceful as she was passionate.  
The red head gently lay Natasha down in their make shift bed, propping her up on some crates.  
"Hold up, I'm gonna find you a bucket" she whispered, covering Nat with a blanket and disappear for a minute. She returned with said bucket, an extra blanket, and a bundle of medication. Clearly, she'd been hiding and stocking up on the chems that Natasha had ignored.

"Getting you clean is going to be Hell, I won't lie to you darlin'. there's a reason I gave up trying. But you're strong, you can do it. I believe in you my girl".  
Nat was about to open her mouth when the first cold shiver hit. Then came a queer sort of lurch, and she almost missed the bucket when she pulled it close to vomit into. She sputtered, coughed and puked up what felt like her entire gut. When she was finished, she did it again, body lurching painfully as she heaved. When she finally was able to stop, the taste of acid and bile thick in her mouth, Cait was watching her.  
"That'll teach you eh? Damn it Nat I can't believe you. You saw what it did to me."  
Nat wiped her mouth and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment.  
"I know. I'm an idiot. It just, it made me feel OK. So much has happened I'm just... Cait, I dunno how I hold it together. If it wasn't for you, I dunno where I'd be. You're the fighter here, I'm the lover. everything I love was taken from me."

Cait softened slightly, pushing Nat's fringe from her face, sticky with sweat as she was, and tucked it behind her ear in much the same way as she would were she to lean in for a kiss.  
"I'm still here Natty" she whispered, using a pet name she reserved for shy sentimentality like this. It did not come often, but when it did Natasha was grateful and now she was grateful more than ever. She couldn't lose the love of the brash irish girl, even if it was what she deserved.  
Nat painted less than a pretty picture- sunken complexion, eye bags, cracked lips, and shaved-sides even when she was off drugs. Her eyes sad, desperate, darting back and forth between Cait and the floor, but she nodded and coughed up again, blood spitting into her hand. Cait stroked her back as she fetched into the bucket, holding her long black hair back so it didn't get messed.

"You've been through the pits I'll give you that. But look at what you accomplished anyway. You blew up a fucking blimp! You nuked them synth bastards. You're tougher than you think. You'll be stronger once that shite is outta your system too, girly." Cait pressed a hand to her forehead, and winced. "Damn you're burning up."  
She doused a rag in cold water and dabbled it to Natasha's forehead, dragging the cool material over her tender skin gently and repeating this motion several times, squeezing it out in slow motions, humming softly as she did, to fill the silence.

Natasha shivered, audibly groaning. Her head lolled back, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire, she was seeing stars, and her fever came in peaks of blistering heat, and troughs of prickly, cold sweats. 

Cait continued dabbling the cloth to her forehead, wringing it out on occasion to top it up.  
"I won't lie, this serves you right for lying to me. Maybe now you'll learn your lesson" she said, after a full half hour of silence, punctuated by Natasha throwing up, Cait's gentle humming of that familiar tune that Nat couldn't place, and the gentle drip of water as Cait wrung out the cloth. Natasha sniffed, tears pricking her eyes.  
"I don't deserve you Cait" she whispered, voices cracking with emotion, and a dry throat. She closed her eyes and rubbed them hard, hoping to run back the tears before they fell.  
"Hey now, listen you." Cait began, dabbling her forehead a little more aggressively before wringing it out and tossing it to the bucket with a wet thwap, the bucket knocking against the wall with the impact. "You may be the biggest feckin' idiot in a while but if anyone deserves me its you. You never once used me for your own means, you made me feel human again. That's just the comedown talking and you won't be rid of me that easy". She paused, and added with a cheeky grin "besides every time I've offered, Piper said no to a quick shag and Curie weirdos me out. If I fingered her would I get a hand full of wires?" 

Natasha laughed, then doubled over in pain as another pretty ave of nausea courses through her body. If this was what happened after twelve hours off of Psycho, she dreaded to think of what the rest of the week held. As though reading her mind, Cait sighed.  
"I've heard it gets better after the fourth day. Wouldn't know, only got to three days meself. But I'm here and I sure as hell ain't letting you give in." She frowned, but even through the haze of comedown and withdrawal, Natasha could see that she was worried, mouth in a sullen frown, and eyes darting nervously. But of course to admit that was uncharacteristic for her. 

The rest of her day was spent fitfully throwing up, shivering beneath a blanket, seeing stars and mostly talking about random things like old T.V. shows, milkshakes, her favourite pre-war snacks, and who the cutest girls in the Wealth were. She even went so far as to admit a crush on Daisy, the vendor from Goodneighbor and every Assaultron in production. Cait gritted her teeth and put up with the semi delusions, although Natasha could have sworn she heard her swear under her breath a few times. Natasha was sore all over; she'd had no idea the body even had this many muscles to tense up and hurt, but apparently they did. Cait kept dabbing her intermittently, and after a few hours made her drink slight amounts of water.

"Just sips now. Don't be going making yourself sick again" she said, as she tipped the glass, mopping up Nat's chin when she dribbled the water. Natasha hadn't realized how thirsty she was, and the answer was very, but she knew better than to overload her system.

After that, she sat there for a while, arm around shoulder, head to Natasha chest, eyes closed. She said nothing, and all Natasha could do was breathe, slowly, inhaling the scent of musty clothes, sweat, old whiskey and dirt that made up Cait, and lie there.  
"I never meant to lie to you. I just thought I was in control up until I wasn't. I thought I could stop any time. I just wanted my head to quiet down for a bit." she whispered. Cait's hand squeezed her shoulder, perhaps a little hard, but the intent was there.  
"I know darlin. But it's you an me against the world. I can't trust ye if you do this and that is something I never want to say." She turned fully to face Natasha. "You've fucked up but I think ye know it, so's I'm not gonna beat you up for it. But if you pull this again, I'm out."  
She clearly meant it, though her voice shook as she said it. She leaned over and kissed Natasha on the cheek, quickly, brusquely, dry lips scratching against hot skin. Natasha wished she would shower her in kisses, anything to distract from the pain wracking her every nerve-ending but she wouldn't push the matter. Hell, she wouldn't want to kiss her after eight hours of vomiting.  
"But you know that. And I trust you not to give up the best shag outside of Magnolia."  
Natasha, again, laughed. Despite the burning in her throat, despite the ridiculous amounts of self pity she felt, she laughed. But, then added, seriously.  
"I'm not gonna do anything to hurt you again Cait. I promise. I can't lose you."  
Cait patted her shoulder. "I know doll, I know. Yer shit in a fist fight."

It was growing dark out, the sun setting prematurely behind some clouds, and the sky lit up like embers in a fire, glowing cold and red till the first stars began to shine. Soon, Cait started a fire to warm them, the embers burning gold and umber but small – they were running out of firewood -. It was a beautiful clear night, all the better to bring a fever down with. Natasha was glad for the cold to bring her fever down and pulled down her blanket so as to expose her skin to it more.  
Cait drifted off leaning against Natasha shoulders although the girl couldn't sleep herself, Cait was gently snoring, her arm still around the others shoulder. Natasha too drifted in and out of sleep, though her dreams were surreal, vivid, and woke her in sweats. 

Through the night she swore Cait got up to dab her forehead, and check her pulse, humming to herself as she did. That same sweet hum she sang when she thought nobody was watching, when she closed her eyes, and sang and sang, a sad smile on her lips. Nat wasn't sure if it was part of the fever dream though.  
The next morning, Cait was boiling up a thin broth out of carrot, potatoes and water, stirring the makeshift campfire and sipping at a water. She blew on a spoon, took a sip, and winced.  
"I'm still shite at cooking but beggars can't be choosers. stick this down your gob it'll help." she said, rousing Natasha with a prod of her foot. Natasha shook awake, her mouth dry and cottony, her head pounding and the beginnings of a migraine growing behind her right eye. She appreciated the thought, however, and took the soup gratefully in one hand, dirt cloying her nails and skin pasty.  
It did taste crap, -watery and tasteless came to mind- and somehow, inexplicably like over boiled cabbage, but it was the first food she'd had in a day. She couldn't finish it, the few spoons she had taken made her feel like she would be thoroughly sick, but she took a few mouthfuls and a swig of water. The movement churned her stomach again and she retched into the bucket, Cait standing over her, arms crossed.  
"Better out than in. You need to keep that strength up so you're gonna eat throughout the day. It's better to throw up food than bile anyway."  
Natasha looked at her, clicking her tongue against her cheek and groaning. Her hair clung sticky to her forehead, and she sweated and shivered, and her heart palpitations did not calm, rather got worse and worse. God, she was a fool. 

"You really know your stuff. How many times did you try to get clean?"  
Cait paused, taken aback by the question. She frowned to herself, counted on her fingers.  
"Tommy tried three or four times. I tried twice. Fat lot of good it did. Soon as I needed the edge in a fight it was right back to the Psycho, or the whiskey then the Psycho, or both at once."  
Nat paused, then touched her arm. Gently, rubbing her muscular forearm with her hand, she smiled sadly at her girlfriend. Cait put her own hand atop Nat's, turned to her with that half smile on her split lips and a slight blush to her cheeks.  
"Ah, it's ok. I'm clean. no use looking back to everything I regret, you taught me that. Just pisses me off if I think about it too long. How you feeling?"  
Nat laughed, then winced as another wave of pain and nausea coursed through her chest. She felt hot and cold all at once, her skin icy yet on fire, her head thinking of one thing and one thing only: the Psycho. But, when forced to choose between that drug and her best gal, she knew what would win for her, hands down.  
"I feel like shit" she said, sounding more blunt than she had intended to, and even more matter-of-fact than that.  
"Yeah? You look it too. Serves you right you daft sod. You're in for hell but I'm here and I'm going to lead ya back".  
Natasha nodded, then threw up again.  
"I'm never touching another shot of Psycho again" she coughed. Cait snorted.  
"And I'm the virgin Mary."  
Natasha shook her head, wide eyed, sweating, a certain mania in her eyes, but a mania tinged with sincerity.  
"No, no I mean it. It'd kill me and if it didn't I think you would. I don't want to hurt you."  
Cait's gaze softened and she crouched down to look at Nat, pushing her fringe away to look her in the eyes. Her own eyes were tired, as though she hadn't slept, and Nat realized that she really had been up all night keeping an eye on her. 

She opened her mouth, dry cracked voice scratchy in her throat, tongue feeling too big for her, and clumsy, thick with all the things she wanted to say but couldn't. She settled on a question.  
"You didn't sleep?"  
Cait paused, then shrugged, then waved a hand dismissively and smiled that toothy smile; she'd lost a few teeth in bouts, and Nat loved the way her lip curled against the dark space where an incisor should have sat, the black gap that sat in her grin.

"Someone needs to be around in case you go tits up. We're a good few days from Diamond City and you're in no state. I could carry ye but that'd be just as slow and I wouldn't wanna embarrass you." She signed and ran a hand through her hair, tossing it through her fingers. "I don't sleep much anyway, and you look so cute when you're dreaming."  
Her voice had softened, to the point that Natasha could hear the worry and the care, and the love her girl clearly had for her. Cait was brash -all bravado and swagger-, but she cared deeply for a few things in life. One of them was Dogmeat, the other was deathclaw steaks, and finally, she adored Natasha. Another pang of guilt ran through her intestines, as she realized just how close she had been to fucking everything up, to losing Cait and herself, to losing her friends and her life. If only Nate could see her now, she snorted to herself. God, maybe Shaun had been right, maybe the Wealth was not a bastion of mankind... she sighed heavily, ragged and tired, and sunk into the makeshift mattress, pushing all thoughts from her head. Cait pushed another bowl of broth towards her, eating her own with a thick wooden spoon and a frown.  
"Hurry up and sober up, Jesus. I miss your cooking". She said, putting her half finished bowl down. "Also because I love you and stuff." she grinned again and Nat could hear the softness in her voice.

The day was spent much the same as the one before it, with the welcome change of a little food and water and marginally less throwing up, although everything hurt way more than she had thought possible. If yesterday was a storm, today was a flash flood. Her fever still raged, and she wasn't keeping anything down, and if she turned her head more than three centimetres the entire room span and shook and twisted in her vision but, she took the absence of shakes as a slight improvement. She just felt restless, but too weak to move, and so tapped her fingers to occupy her mind, drumming a beat into the floor.  
"You're doing well girly" Cait said, as the sun set behind the tree line and the first waves of chilled night air spread across the ground. "It's rough, I know it's rough, but you're doing well".

Natasha nodded and snuggled up to her girlfriend resting her head against the others chest, entwining her fingers with hers, and closing her eyes to focus on something aside from the blinder she had developed. She focused on the feel of Cait's breast against her head – soft and pillowy- of the hush of her breath, the brush of her hair against her skin.  
"I love you cait" she whispered. Cait's fingers tensed. "I know I've fucked up but I'm gonna make it up to you I promise. I never meant to get this bad."  
Cait shifted under her body, Nat moving to accommodate her, and the Irish brawler patted her head, brushing a kiss against her scalp and adjusting the blanket to cover them both.  
"How did you feel when you saw me ill in the vault?"  
Nat paused, considered the question.  
"Worried. I thought I might lose you. You were really sick." she paused. "I felt so worried I did a puff of Jet after, settle my nerves. when I started up that machine and heard you screaming I worried. I thought you were dying. I thought I'd killed you.”  
Cait sighed, sounding as frustrated as she did sad. "And you still went ahead and did this. Are you the biggest idiot ever or is that Travis still screaming about the Brotherhood coming to destroy us all?"  
"I'm the biggest idiot ever. I just want to feel normal. No, no, I want to feel numb to it. I saw my husband killed. I saw me son turn into the most hated man in the Commonwealth. I'm dodging bullets, and a lawyers degree means jack in this economy... shit. I needed a break"  
Cait sighed, stroked her hair slowly, twining strands of her hair in between her fingers, resting her cheek against Natasha's shoulder.  
"I get how Tommy felt now I see you" she said. And, that was it. She turned over, her back to Natasha, who didn't dare risk turning lest she throw up, or worse.  
"Get some sleep girl." 

That night. Natasha spent a night fitfully tossing and turning, in and out of feverish dreams the whole night through, sweating more than ever. Her dreams, however, were a bit more lucid, less hallucinatory and more cohesive. At one point, in between a nightmare about a giant baboon chasing her and a dream where she was marrying Magnolia and Daisy, her eyes opened to the scene of Cait, perched at the windowsill, staring out. It took a moment for her to process, but she realized Cait was singing a soft sweet melodies that cut through the dusty silence of the night air and the chirp of cicada.

"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,"

She drifted off too quickly to listen to the whole thing.  
The next morning, she was weak from lack of food, dizzy and feeling worse now that her head was clearing up: she hadn't thought it possible but somehow it was, and somehow the fact that she was regaining use of her faculties made her ache more, hurt more, and there was no haze of comedown to distract her from the gnawing feeling. Not only that, but the depression had hit her in full force and she had to deal with that on top of the lack of drugs. 

Cait reheated the soup and passed it over. Natasha took small victory in the fact that she didn't throw up what little she had eaten and she saw Cait visibly un-tense, a smile tugging at her lips. She was beginning to realise how much of a toll this was taking, and mentally beat herself up even more for doing this for hiding it and for being such an idiot.  
"That's progress, yeah?" and Natasha nodded, thankful that the gnawing feeling in her belly had finally been sated. She drank a little water, holding the glass for herself and sighed.

Now the drugs were clearing out of her system she just felt tired, tireder than she had felt in a long time, if ever. Every limb felt as though it were crafted from marble; she was that heavy and that cold, that clammy and stiff, she was swollen and achy, which was OK but as she was sat, there was a constant thrum of pain through her body. Her throat was still dry, and with no drugs in her system she lay, in pain that could not be masked. She groaned realising she had to put up with another week of this, at the least.  
Cait looked at her sympathetically and delved into the leather bag she had hauled in, two days ago. An impromptu first aid kit. Inside lay a purple vial, and a small needle, which she slotted together and tapped.  
"When I was trying to get clean last time Tommy gave me a shot of Med X every night before a fight. I figured maybe it'll help with the aches. gimme your arm".  
Natasha didn't.  
"Isn't this just as bad as Psycho?"  
Cait sighed, pulled her arm over and tapping at the vein in her elbow to make it pop.  
"Yes, and no. Psycho stimulates muscles and brain activity to make you hyper aware. This does the opposite. It'll help your muscles relax and it isn't nearly as addictive."  
Natasha nodded, winced as the needle entered her arm. It stung sharp and rang through the other, duller pain but the sense of relief as the drug flooded her system was nigh instantaneous; she felt it, and the pain diminished with every passing moment.  
"thank you Cait" she whispered, pulling her arm back underneath the cover. She knew it was a temporary, bittersweet reprieve but she was glad all the same. From here on out, she swore to herself, it was alcohol and that was it. And that was, perhaps, too kind.  
She turned to Cait, a question bubbling up in her head.  
"What made you start?" she asked. They had covered this topic before, but spoken about it less than they had the other stuff, and she felt as though it was as good a time as any to speak of it. 

Cait paused.  
"Well if there's someone I know would be interested in my life story, it's you. It's not really that interesting. You heard most of it."  
Natasha bundled up in her blanket, leaning over to rest her head in Cait's lap. Cait twined her fingers in her partners hair, curling strands around her finger, tight like coils, then letting them unfurl before repeating the action. She was quiet for a bit, lost in the action.  
"When the raiders started hitting Combat Zone the first few people who fought back got killed. So Tommy saved the best for last, me. First he said it was just a one off thing, you know. Something to scare them. Send the Irish gal hurling at them pumped full a Psycho. But then it became a gimmick, see how fast they could wind me up after I took it, how long they could last against me. Then if I didn't take it it just became a bit hard to fight and that's all I was good at". She paused and sighed, twirling her finger into Natasha hair again, with a small sigh. “It helped me forget too. I used to drink before that, because of me ma. But the drugs just seemed easier...”  
"I didn't mind at first. Helped me forgot the pain, dulled how much I ached after the fighting. But...for a while I didn't even know what I was like off drugs. That was all I was. Couldn't have that."  
Natasha nodded, nuzzling her stomach with her nose and sighing.  
"I got you now. You got me too."  
Cait smiled.  
"I know. So, what the bloody hell made you start?" 

Natasha looked at her, saw the worry in her eyes, and rolled onto her back. This was as much as she could move in present circumstances but she considered it a victory over the near-paralysis she had been experiencing as of late. Absent mindedly, Caitlin began braiding her hair as she spoke, just the one strand near the front at her fringe. A messy braid, but better than she could have done.

"When first got outta the vault an found out one of my neighbours was a dealer, with a load of drugs in his safe I picked the lock and grabbed them all. I felt so sick. Literally just seen me husband get shot and was seeing like, two-headed deer and shite like that. Wasn't that great and I was shaking like mad and I just grabbed the first thing. Mentats did nothing, so it was the Psycho just balanced me. Felt OK. Heart stopped pounding and I felt good, I felt powerful, I fucked up them raiders in Concord." she took a deep breath.  
Cait paused then asked a question that had clearly been on her mind. "Do ye miss him?"

She shrugged. "I guess. More as a friend. Was always a lezzer, but it was frowned upon back then a bit more... least, in my family. I miss the stability. I spent 3 years studying to be a lawyer an here I am, a bloody junkie in a fucked up post nuclear world. Girlfriend is the best part of this situation, always preferred tits.". Cait snorted, the first time she'd heard her girlfriend laugh in a few days. She'd forgotten how much she missed the sound and it filled her with more determination to get better, to kick this and fully recover. Cait had finished braiding one side her fringe, and started about the other, planning to make a thing of it. 

"I guess I kinda miss Tommy. Looking back though, he wasn't a friend. He was just better'n the raiders and me ma". she huffed, concentrated on the second plait a lot more. Natasha dared not interrupt her as she frowned down at her hair, carefully looping her fringe with a more delicate touch.  
Natasha paused, hissed as she moved. She swore her joints creaked. She continued talking, prompted by Cait's silence.  
"Then I took a hit every now and then if I was facing off against an enemy or something. Just to give me the edge. Then just started taking it because it was fun and helped me forget". She sighed, turning onto her side.

"Gosh we're a right bunch of fuck ups" she laughed, and Cait laughed too- a deep, throaty, throw-your-head-back laugh, almost a guffaw. Natasha smiled. It was good to hear her happy again. She felt terrible for hurting her, for lying and going behind her back. It wouldn't happen again. They talked away the hours, Nat occasionally taking sips of water or closing her eyes to drip into fitful peaks of sleep, always roused by a cold rag to her forehead, or a hand to her cheek. 

A few times she awoke to see Cait gone, but knew she would be back – she did this often, going off for little walks by her lonesome, needing the time to clear her head. Nat had no fears that Cait would leave her- she had made her intentions perfectly clear, and indeed, Caitlin always returned. Sometimes, with small satchels full of scrap to sell later, or with freshly-drawn water from the nearby brook, and at one point that day, with a purplish bruise on her cheek from a run-in with a lone Gunner, who was no match for her and her baseball bat. Natasha simply slept the day away, nuzzled into the bed. She felt a little more comfortable than she had in a while, the aches in her joints feeling less sharp than they had, but the cramp in her gut showed no sign of fading. 

For the third time, Cait heated up the soup. The smell of boiled cabbage did not dissipate at all, if anything the constant reheating had made it more intense, and she wrinkled her nose as she passed over a freshly heated bowl.  
“Soon as this is over you're cooking a big meal. Think I've earned it and I need to get the taste of this god-awful soup out me gob.”  
Natasha took a small sip of the brothy mix, taste-wise it was somewhere inbetween musty potato and dirty water, but she was just glad for food that filled the hole in her belly, horrible as it tasted. She smiled at Cait appreciatively.  
“That's fine, my girl. You've earned a veritable feast I reckon.” She took a small spoonful of vegetables, now cooked and recooked so often that she couldn't even tell what they once were, and chewed thoughtfully.  
“Deathclaw steak, right? With Mutfruit porridge for afters.” She said, after much thought and consideration. No sooner had she said it than she realised it was the first time in she couldn't remember how long that she had been able to focus on something aside from drugs, aside from the depression. For so long, her thoughts had been occupied by how to earn enough money to get her next fix, how to get Cait to sleep early so she could run off to Goodneighbor early, or what to do to hide trackmarks from her arms, and so on. She hadn't even realised how much of her life had been ruled over by addiction, how much the Psycho had permeated her every day. She had quietly been pondering this while Cait spoke, everything the other woman said going in one ear and out the other as she lost herself in her thoughts. The woman had fallen silent after a few seconds, realising Natasha was in another place entirely.  
Once Nat shook herself out of her thoughts, she turned to Cait and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, what was that?”  
“I was just saying how that sounded like a good start to make this up to me.” She smiled, but Nat felt a pang of guilt. She did have a lot of making up to do.  
“I know, and I'm sorry Cait. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”  
Cait shook her head and moved to sit next to the woman, resting her head on the others' shoulder.  
“I didn't exactly ever pay you back for buying out me contract in the first place. And then you went with me on that treck to Vault 95. I think this makes us even.” She whispered. For the first time in a few days, Nat could hear how tired she was. How much of a toll this must have been taking on her. Cait was good at hiding her emotions beyond a wall of stoic devil-may-care and a sarcastic attitude. But Natasha had come to know that that wasn't the real Cait, that it was a front she put up to hide how scared she sometimes was, and that Cait, underneath it all, cared very deeply about a lot of people. Especially her.  
Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her hand to the top of Cait's arm and squeezing gently.  
“I'm sorry Cait.” she whispered. Cait said nothing, didn't shift or move, just breathed deeply. 

“I know you are Natty” she said, after a long, uncomfortable silence. She could hear the tiredness in her voice now, the sadness.  
“I know I fucked up” Nat added. Cait shrugged underneath her hand.  
“Can hardly be mad at ye for that, now can I? Have you seen me?”  
Cait grimaced though, and Nat could tell she was more upset than she was letting on.  
“You can be mad. I'm mad. I shouldn't have done this. Should have quit with you.”  
Cait shrugged again.  
“Shoulda made you get in that damn chair right after me darling. Its as much my fault. I know how hard it is to quit the shit.”  
Nat shook her head. Cait turned to her, eyes bright with sadness, but also with care.  
“Look, we're goin' round in circles. Both of us are idiots, both of us are fuck ups, but we got each other. That's the best thing, aye?”  
Nat paused, considered this, and nodded, lips pursed.  
Cait smiled, the small sweet smile that she reserved for Nat, and pressed her lips to the tip of her nose.  
“Now lets stop beating each other up for it, yeah?” she smiled and lay down, pulling Nat with her, into a small hug that warmed the two of them in the dull, cold dusk light. There, the two of them fell asleep.


End file.
